Hold On To Me
by Rosie Loye
Summary: My first Grey's Anatomy fan fic, so please read and review! Takes place after the season 5 finale, featuring Owen and Cristina.
1. Chapter 1

**My first Grey's Anatomy FanFic based on the relationship between Owen and Cristina.**

**Starting out with one story but I will possibly add to it as I get inspired. This fic takes place after the Season 5 finale. George has died following his accident despite desperate attempts to save him (Izzie isn't mentioned but for the sake of this particular story she has survived!)**

**The title is the name of a song by the Sugarplum Fairies and has been featured in GA (Season 5 Episode 23 – where Owen finally visits his mother).**

**I don't own anything – I just wish I did!**

**Please read and review.**

* * *

Cristina stood on the vent, allowing the cool wind to blow her unruly hair in all directions, sending a shiver down her spine. She breathed deep, easy breaths, trying to calm down her churning stomach, the lump in her throat and pacify her racing mind which was relieving scenes that had happened only minutes earlier. Her head began to spin, and she closed her eyes tightly, trying to blot it all out, but at every thought of his name her heart sank deeper and deeper into her chest.

Poor George, she thought. She had given him hell from their first day as interns, and she still she considered him to be 007 at times. But regardless of his skill and ability, he was part of a group of people that were the closest thing she had to family. When George's dad died, he had told her he didn't know how to live in a world without his father. Now, they had to get used to living in a world without George. When she had heard of his intentions to join the army, not only was she shocked but she was worried; she had already seen what war had done to one person she loved, she didn't want that to happen to another. But now they would never know how he would have managed in the army, had Bailey have let him go. Now everything had been turned upside down and she didn't know anything anymore.

As another gust of wind shot past her, she didn't have the energy to be strong anymore. Allowing her once carefully-guarded emotions to get the better of her, tears began to stream down freely down her face.

After a few seconds, the door meekly opened behind her and she heard footsteps shuffle into the room. It was him. It had to be him. In all the time they had spent in the vent room, they had never been interrupted by a repair man, by another member of staff, by anyone. Just earlier today they had been here but for a very different reason.

He entered the room and saw her standing there. When Meredith told him that she hadn't seen her since she had broken the news about George, he knew she could only be in one place. She stood with her back to him, allowing her hair to be blown around by the gusts of air, showing off the back of her neck that he loved so much. He loved all of her for that matter, and she loved him too. Today was the day they started again; the day he let go of the ghosts of his past, and she from her reservations about letting her barriers down. She had said 'yes' to him yet again, given him another chance he knew he didn't deserve. But this time it would be different. He was getting better and he would be a better man for and with her. Then it was revealed that the 'dragged-into-a-bus-guy' was George – his student and Cristina's fellow resident; their friend. Now they were both so exhausted their new start was going to have to wait.

Upon hearing him enter, Cristina turned around to face him. She looked at his face and saw an array of emotions; worry, grief, exhaustion, confusion. She was sure that if she could see her own it would be the same. They stood there looking at each other knowing that nothing had to be said; they knew it all already and they respected each other too much to start exchanging useless sympathies.

Another gust of wind blew past her, trying but failing to clear her racing mind. She looked at Owen, and shaking her head, whispered, 'It doesn't work anymore'.

Owen looked at her and saw more tears fall down her face. Now he simply felt useless. This was their safe haven, a place where they could talk or even steal a moment with each other away from the craziness of their work. He had found this place and shared it with Cristina because she was the only one he had trusted enough to see him venerable; he showed it to her to return the favour when she needed a release – and it had worked. Now it was useless, and for some reason he couldn't quite pinpoint, he felt that was partly down to him.

Not knowing how to reply, he simply went to her and wrapped his arms around her. He felt her entire weight collapse into him and as she buried her face into his chest, she wrapped both arms around his waist. Rubbing her back to ease her silent but laboured breaths, he kissed his hair and tried in any way he knew to comfort her. There they stood, holding on to each other, neither losing any grip they had on each other, and onto the only part of their lives that seemed real.


	2. Chapter 2

'It will work again,' Owen said while cupping Cristina's face in his hands. 'No matter how bad things seem right now, they will get better.'

Cristina wanted to believe him. After all he had been through she knew he had more than enough authority to say it. He was recovering, slowly but surely, from the loss of his unit and knew better than most the trauma of losing someone close. Indeed, Cristina knew this too having had her own father die in her arms. But she was a child then; she was resilient. Now she was older and knew the repercussions of death for she witnessed them daily. Now though, when it had struck so close to home, she didn't know how to deal with it.

'Will they?' was all she could say, tears filling her eyes again. God, when were they going to stop?

'Yes, they will. Cristina, I've been here before,' he sighed.

It was then Cristina realised just how close Owen and George had become. She forgot how much this must be hurting him too, and scolded herself for being so selfish. She also remembered that George had died on front of his eyes, how his life had slipped away in his hands – just like many of the people in his unit must have died. God knows what he must be feeling right now. Just seeing George was enough to crush Cristina. She had no idea how Owen coped with seeing his life slip away.

'Are _you _okay?' she asked.

Owen took a few seconds to answer, as if he was evaluating himself. 'Honestly? I don't know. I just wish….that maybe….I had tried harder. Or maybe done one more round of adrenaline. Or maybe charged the paddles again. Or….I don't know,' he said trailing off. Owen could feel that guilt rising in him again; he was the Head of Trauma, he had fixed up soldiers who were basically in bits, he had seen worse cases than George and was able to fix them. Why had this happened again, now when a friend needed him to make things better?

Cristina could see Owen's expression and was confused. Even with what he had just said, she still didn't really get it. He had done everything in his power to save George; she knew that and everyone else knew that too. 'Owen, this isn't your fault. It isn't. And don't you dare think for a second that it is.'

'But maybe-'

'Maybe nothing! This happened because George is…was a good guy. Because he was too kind, too caring, too brave and too much of a freakin' hero. This is not and at no point has been your fault. We're starting again, Owen. You're not going to spend the next forty years letting guilt eat you alive – I won't let it!'

Owen looked at her and could see how passionately she meant it. It was moments like this he honestly didn't know how he had managed in the before. He nodded at her and breathed a sigh of relief that at least Cristina knew he had tried – once she understood he knew he could cope with what was to come. Wrapping his arms around her shoulders again, he stood there for a few seconds until proclaiming, 'We should go home. It's been a long day.'

Cristina nodded in agreement. The vent wasn't working its magic in the way it usually did. She was sure Alex would stay with Izzie tonight and she didn't see the point in hanging around the hospital. Just thinking about George lying in the morgue made her want to break down into tears again.

'Are you ready?' asked Owen.

'Yeah, yeah I think so,' she answered.

Owen loosened the grip his arms had around Cristina's shoulder, and as she removed her arms from around his waist, she grasped his right hand into her left one. They both needed something to hold on to, even if they were both as weak as each other. Owen gave her hand a gentle squeeze and began walking with her to the door of the vent room. As he held the door open for her and Cristina began to walk out, she felt his hand gently tugs on hers.

'It will work again, Cristina. I promise.'

She nodded at him, and squeezed his hand tightly. She did believe him now. She knew that she could trust him to be right. She knew they'd be ok. Maybe not right now, but definitely some day; in their combined after.


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, so i made a few grammatical mistakes in this one. I fixed them up and uploaded it again - my apologies, I've learnt my lesson about typing and uploading stories at 3am :) ! I'm glad you're enjoying it so far, please keep commenting because the reviews keep me going :)**

* * *

Cristina and Owen walked hand in hand towards the front exit of the hospital. Neither were ones for public displays of affection, but they needed each other right now; their public images didn't matter anymore.

They made their way to the waiting room and front desk and stopped at the scene on front of them. George's distraught mother was being consoled by Bailey, who herself was in tears. One of his brothers stood talking to the Chief, trying to arrange what seemed to be paperwork, while another two of his brothers sat talking to Callie, Arizona, Meredith and Derek. Alex was nowhere to be seen, but was presumably with Izzie. She had scared them earlier today, but they had managed to revive her by the skin of her teeth. She had been pissed with Cristina, the Chief, Bailey but most of all Alex for not obeying her wishes to not be resuscitated, but Cristina understood Izzie better than she knew, and was sure she was grateful deep down. She hadn't seen her since she had heard about George, but was sure she'd be crushed. She knew she should visit but just couldn't bring herself to do it. All this time they had been worried about losing her, but still couldn't really come to terms with the possibility. Losing George so suddenly felt like being stabbed in the heart with no warning.

Cristina's gaze met Meredith's, who clearly had been crying her eyes out. Derek was rubbing circles on her back and Cristina noted how he too looked like a broken man, much like Owen. Then she remembered George's massive head trauma - he must have been operating on him too and had been there when he slipped away. Although she and Derek had never been the best of friends, she couldn't help but feel pity on him.

Upon meeting Cristina's eyes, Meredith snapped out of the haze she had been in. Looking her up and down she noted the hand that was in Cristina's and then saw that it was Owen's. With this, she stormed over to Cristina, grabbed her free hand and began dragging her to a nearby trauma room. Cristina still clung to Owen, unable to comprehend what her friend was doing.

'We need to talk,' Meredith snapped.

Noticing Cristina's shocked expression, Owen still held on to her. 'Um, maybe it can't wait, Meredith?'

'No, it can't!' Meredith growled.

Cristina, sick of being caught in the tug of war, let go of Owen's hand and mouthed 'It's ok' over to him. Still looking worried, he obliged. Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he turned around to find Derek, whom, along with the rest of the room, saw what had just happened. 'Just let them talk. They're in shock. We're all in shock. It's a lot to take in.'

* * *

'What the hell are you doing?' Meredith shouted.

'What?' Cristina replied, sounding genuinely confused.

'With HIM. McArmy. What the hell are you doing WITH him?'

'Mer, does that really matter right now?'

'Yes, yes it does! If it wasn't for your boyfriend out there George would never have joined the ARMY, would never have been sent home to spend time with his poor mother before he left to report for duty IN THE ARMY, would never have been hit by a bus on his way to do that and would not be lying dead in the morgue right now!' The last few words seemed to crush Meredith, and tears began to stream down her face again. 'Dammit!' she cursed.

As much as Cristina hated what she had just said, she hated it more to see her cry. Reaching out to put her arms around her, Meredith drew back and slid on to the floor. 'No, no, just don't. Don't.'

Cristina took a deep breath in and crouched down to Meredith's level. She was shocked at her friend's behaviour, but knew she didn't mean it. Grief affected everyone in different ways. 'Meredith, you're hurt. We're all hurting. But I know that you didn't mean what you just said. George…died because of an accident. It was no one's fault. And well, I need Owen right now. Just like you need Derek. I….I love him, Mer.'

Meredith could hardly believe what she was hearing. 'You what?'

'I love him,' she repeated. 'I really do.'

'Did you tell him?'

'Um hum.'

'And what did he say?'

'Well, he loves me too. And we decided to give it another go. Mer, I need you to understand, I need you to be ok with this.'

Meredith looked at her friend. It wasn't often she pleaded with her. Or with anyone for that matter. She only did when she really wanted or needed something. She was a proud person and made no bones about it. She also wasn't a person who said 'I love you.' For her to have said it to Owen must truly mean that he was The One. And deep down, she was glad. Cristina deserved her happy ever after. She was sure this wasn't the start of what she and Owen had hoped for. 'Okay,' she said firmly.

'Okay?'

'Okay. I will give him another chance. I'm on your side too.'

Cristina managed a faint smile. Under the circumstances a proper one seemed impossible. Although she was happy to know that her first-choice ally supported her fully.

'What do we do now?' Meredith asked. The same feeling that she had before Cristina and Owen had arrived stirred up in her again, her anger having proved to have been somewhat of a welcome distraction. Now she felt lost again and didn't have a clue how to act.

Knowing that her question wasn't based on where they should go now, or what they could do for George's family, or upon anything practical for that matter, Cristina sighed, 'I don't really know. But we have to carry on. We have to grieve and we have to do whatever it takes to get us through this. And we have each other. We'll get through this, one step at a time.'

Meredith nodded in agreement, and Cristina put out her hand to help her to her feet. Taking each other's hands and composing themselves, they walked back into their own idea of Room 101.


	4. Chapter 4

**Please keep reviewing everyone, they keep me going :)**

* * *

After Cristina and Meredith had rejoined Owen and Derek in the waiting room, they all resolved to go home. Sleep would probably be impossible for them all, but it was worth a try. Both men noted the show of unity between the two women after their row. They had both heard Meredith's harsh words, and listening to them proved to be another harsh blow for Owen. It was enough that Meredith hated him, he didn't want Cristina getting the blame. Their voices had quieted down though, and they had re-emerged looking as close as they usually did. Owen felt somewhat reassured by this; they all needed their friends, especially at a time like this. Still, both men wisely decided not to comment on their show of friendship, and instead threw incredulous glances at each other. Meredith was the first to break the silence.

'Should we go to see Izzie before we leave?' she asked.

Cristina really didn't want to. Like really didn't want to. But she was their friend and they loved her; not visiting her wasn't an option. She looked at Meredith, who also seemed to be struggling with what she _should_ do and what she _wanted_ to do. Cristina knew then that she had only asked out of good manners and politeness.

'She might be too tired. Or asleep. Either way, Alex is with her - she's not alone,' Owen reasoned, thinking it best to let them off the hook for this evening anyway. They needed an excuse, yet both were too polite to say anything. Having been unable to face his own mother for weeks after his return from Iraq, he understood how they felt. True enough, when he had thrown them the lifeline, they both looked relieved.

'Maybe you're right,' Meredith said.

She was agreeing with him? Whatever Cristina had said had definitely worked.

'Okay, well then we'll go,' Derek said as he placed his hand on Meredith's lower back and began to usher her away. Wishing each other goodnight, Meredith glanced at Cristina and with a quick squeeze on her hand, let go, and walked away, wrapping her arm around Derek's waist.

Turning to face Owen, Cristina asked, 'Your place or mine?'

'Whatever you want,' he replied.

'I want to be close to the hospital, just in case, with Izzie and all…' she trailed off. 'So hopefully mine, but I better check with Callie first.'

She didn't have to worry about Callie wanting the apartment too. She was understandably heartbroken about George too; after being married to someone, for however short, you simply couldn't feel nothing for them. Arizona had offered to take Callie back to her place and she had accepted. Cristina, although she was her room mate and could call her a friend, wasn't always the best of company, and she needed someone to listen to her tonight. She imagined that the last thing Arizona needed to hear was about Callie's ex-husband, but she was open-minded; she knew she could take it.

* * *

Cristina and Owen headed back to her apartment, walking briskly against the cool Seattle night air. They still held hands, all the while getting used to their new found comfort with this particular public display of affection. They barely spoke a word on their way, Cristina having nothing to say and Owen too afraid to ask what was still on his mind from Meredith's earlier outburst.

Cristina slowly opened the door and peaked inside, praying that the apartment was at least presentable. She despised cleaning and it was poor Callie who usually ended up cleaning up after her, despite her protests. Indeed, the evening Owen was supposed to take her out on a date Callie had pretty much single-handedly tided the apartment for her. Cristina didn't cook either for that matter, and sincerely doubted that there was anything she could offer him to eat if he was hungry. She looked in and saw that the place was pretty much its usual mess.

'Don't judge me,' she asked, opening the door the entire way to let him in.

Owen smiled as he looked at the scene on front of him. Cool, calm, collected Cristina Yang lived in a pig sty. To him, it was strangely amusing. Noting the scattered Chinese food boxes scattered around her kitchen bench and the mass of disregarded clothes and towels lying on the couch. 'I see you like your food and apartment the way I like my surgery – quick and dirty,' he smirked.

'Well if you think you need to freshen up you know where the shower is,' she retorted, sticking her tongue out at him.

He chuckled and she smiled back. He had certainly met his match in Cristina. It was so easy to forget all the things that were wrong in the world when he was with her. Having said that, George was never far from their minds, and he watched as Cristina's smile faded to a look of shame; to her, laughing when her friend was dead was wrong – very wrong. He watched as she began to lift up the clothes in large bundles, trying to find the couch that lay underneath. Deciding to help her, he lifted the bundles out of her arms. 'Where should I put these?' he asked.

Definitely not up to the task of sorting through them, she eyed the closet beside her front door and decided that if they were out of sight, they would be out of mind; unlike poor George. 'Here,' she said quickly, and walked over to open the door for him.

'Just dump them?' he asked, sounding bemused.

'You've seen the state of my apartment, what makes you think I keep my storage space any better?'

_True_, he thought, and placed them on the floor. He could see that among the other remnants of the closet lay a mangled implement, made mostly of wood and metal. Curious to discover what exactly it was, he lifted it out to get a better look.

_Crap_, Cristina thought. _This was going to be fun to explain_.

'Your ceiling fan?' he asked.

'What's left of it, yeah.'

'You took it down? When?'

'Not long ago.'

'Didn't suit the décor?'

'Didn't suit the man I want to be with.'

Owen looked at her for a few long seconds, into her gorgeous eyes which were full of emotion. Placing the fan back where it was, he pulled her to him and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. Remaining there, he wondered how she managed to be so accepting of him and his big problems. He knew that while somehow, she could, her friends couldn't. What Meredith had said earlier still lingered in his mind, and brought to his mind again the fact that he still really wasn't any good for her; not yet anyway. But, he had gone without her and it had torn him apart. Staying away just wasn't working anymore. Pulling away from her briskly, he put his hands over her upper arms as if to keep her at bay. He needed the distance right now in order for him to think straight.

Cristina was worried now. She knew what taking the ceiling fan down meant for their relationship. It meant that they could be together, completely and in every way possible. By kissing her, she thought it was confirmation Owen knew it too. The waiting, the worrying, the fear would all be gone; him stopping her however, and literally keeping her at arms length from him felt like delayed rejection.

'I love you,' he said firmly.

'And I love you too. But we already covered that today,' she retorted.

'Are you sure about this? Like absolutely certain?' he asked. 'When I told you to think about it today, I meant it.'

'I know. And I thought about it. And here we are.'

'Cristina-,'

'What, Owen? God you sound like you want me to change my mind!'

'Of course I don't. But I do want you to be sure. The ceiling fan means more than just about where I'll be sleeping.' Owen sighed and looked at the ground, knowing he possibly walking himself right out of this relationship.

Comprehending what exactly he was trying to say and do, she cupped his face and brought his eyes to meet hers.

'You're right,' she mused. 'It means so much more. The fan symbolises our before and after. Before, it was fine. It worked fine and we were happy, had no complaints. A few mishaps and a few…flirtations were enough to keep us interested, alive and hanging in there. But then…then our war happened. It was cruel, and it was unfair, but worst of all it wasn't our fault. We were pitted against each other for no reason when we should have been on the same side all the time. When it was over, we were wrecked. And we were scared. And the memory of the war stayed with us and we couldn't forget. But more than that we didn't want to forget. Because we knew it could still work again. The time apart, however long or short, was irrelevant because we still wanted it to work. It may work differently, it may need to be repaired, but it will work again. And even if it doesn't work the way we thought it would, we can find another way. I can meet you half way, Owen,' she smiled.

Owen couldn't help but smile. Then addressing the issue that had played on his mind all evening, he asked, 'What about Meredith? I heard what she said earlier, Cristina.'

'Meredith was upset. Really upset. But I told her that I loved you, and she's happy for us. She didn't mean it Owen. And in terms of our war, Meredith's the U.N. She's happy once there's peace.' Placing her hands around his neck and bringing her face meagre inches away from his, she whispered, 'I promise you Owen, this IS what I want.'

Letting his arms drop to her waist, he began to kiss her like before but more passionately. It was Cristina who eventually broke it off. 'I'm exhausted,' she sighed as she rested her head in the hollow of his neck.

'It's been a long day,' he agreed. Tomorrow would probably seem even longer, when everything really hit home. 'We should try to get some sleep.'

'Try being the operative word,' she sighed once again. As tired as she was, her mind was still racing. _At least he was here_, she thought.

'Yeah,' he mumbled in reply. _At least she was here_, he thought.

Closing the closet door, Cristina led Owen to her room. Their room. Their safe haven.

Ceiling fan-free.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi Everyone :) Sorry about the wait for the update, but i'm back so please keep reviewing :)**

* * *

Cristina slowly opened her eyes; the sunlight was creeping in through her blinds, creating a vertical strips across her bed and consequently on her too. One single strip was conveniently positioned right across her eyes, and as she closed them tightly to blot out the stinging rays, she turned around to find what she thought to be a sleeping Owen beside her.

'Not a morning person then?' he smirked, with one eye open and the other still closed.

'Not this particular morning,' she groaned, placing a hand over her forehead. They had gotten practically no sleep last night, both unable to let go of the events of the day. The three hours they had managed to nab seemed to count for nothing and it seemed that the day would be never-ending.

Owen listened to her and sighed. Placing his arm over her middle he moved in closer. She responded by removing her hand from her forehead and ran her fingers through his hair instead. After a while of just lying there, Cristina tried to brighten the mood she had managed to create.

'I suppose we should be celebrating,' she said.

'What?' Owen asked, lifting his head up to look her in the eyes.

'One whole night and no…incidents,' she replied.

'Cristina we were awake for almost all of it. It's hardly a metamorphosis.'

'No, but it's a start. And three hours is not bad by any standards. Besides, we're doctors – the average amount of time we get to sleep is five hours,' she smiled, genuinely happy with what they had achieved. Initially she thought that it would be quite a while before they could even think about sharing a bed, but the whole thing with George had thrown them together, and nothing, not even fear of hurting one another nor being hurt, could tear them apart.

Although, that wasn't to say that there hadn't been a few hairy moments during the night; at one stage Owen moved suddenly, causing Cristina to become instantly alert. In reaction to this, she gave herself a little more distance from Owen than there originally had been.

Owen had tried to make it as easy for her as he could, trying to stay as close to the edge of the bed as he could. He had wanted to sleep on the sofa but Cristina wouldn't let him, insisting on him staying. And in all honestly, Owen didn't want to go anywhere either.

While they had been lying in bed, they had mostly talked about George, but they had both divulged small parts of information on themselves too. When Cristina had talked about herself, he wanted to reach out and hold her, but hadn't let himself. He knew that if he did, he wouldn't want to let go, and he didn't want to unnerve or make this any harder for her than what it already was. When she had told him that she was afraid to fall asleep in his arms, it had spelt the end of their relationship. He wouldn't risk that again. Still, truth be told, he couldn't wait until morning so they could be together in peace. Or relative peace, anyway.

'Speaking of being a doctor,' Owen began, 'I need to go to work soon.'

'I'll walk over with you,' she responded.

'You're working today? I didn't see your name on the schedule?'

'You still checking up on me?' she teased.

'You bet,' he smirked.

'No, I'm going to see Izzie. I have to do it sometime,' she sighed. 'We almost lost her yesterday. If she….' She couldn't even bear to finish the sentence. 'I can't lose anymore of my friends, Owen.'

Owen didn't really know what to say to reassure her. He couldn't promise her that Izzie wouldn't die. God knows it was a miracle she had even made it this far. All he could do was believe and hope that God was on their side for once. 'She's a fighter, Cristina. She won't be giving up without a fight.'

Cristina only nodded in reply. Even he didn't think she would make it. 'We better make a move,' she stated while lifting herself off the bed.

'Cristina,' he said, grasping her waist and pulling her back to him. 'It will be ok. Please believe me.'

'I do,' she nodded. 'Thanks for being here.'

'Anytime,' he whispered, kissing her forehead.

* * *

'Are you sure you're ready to do this?' Owen asked as they approached the doors of the hospital. 'Wouldn't you rather wait for Meredith?'

'Owen, I know that we're close but we're not joined at the hip.'

'Could have fooled me,' he retorted with a smile.

'I'll be fine. Meet up with you later?' she asked.

'Sure,' he agreed. Grabbing a quick kiss before letting her go, he prayed that this wasn't too much too soon for her.

* * *

Cristina walked into the oncology wing and noted how muted the atmosphere was. Usually, the entire hospital seemed to be on an adrenaline rush, but today it seemed to be on a downer. Still, she knew how well-liked George was in the hospital. By human standards, he was a genuinely good guy. By surgeon standards, he was unheard of. Surgeons aren't known for their known for their kindness, compassion or friendliness, and yet George epitomised them. Now it probably seemed like colleagues and patients alike had lost an ally.

Stopping when she reached Izzie's room, Cristina looked through the window to see her in her room alone, lying on her side and staring into space, until eventually her eyes met Cristina's. Forcing a faint smile for her, Cristina noted how utterly exhausted she looked. Pushing her hand down on the handle, she held her breath, and prayed that she felt better than she looked.

'Hey,' Cristina whispered.

Izzie remained on her side, once again staring into space. 'Hi,' she managed back.

'How are you feeling?' she asked, picking up her chart and analysing the various readings taken throughout the night. By the looks of it she had a rough night and early morning, but after what she had been through, it was as good as to be expected.

'Fine,' she answered. It was far from the truth, but it was unlikely that she would complain considering what had happened to George.

'Where's Alex?' Cristina asked.

'He was here all night, I told him to go home and get some sleep.'

Cristina nodded. The bags underneath Izzie's eyes were huge, and she looked the worse she had ever been.

'Thanks,' she replied sarcastically. Becoming more serious however, she turned slightly so she was facing Cristina more. 'I've tried, Cristina. I've tried to shut my eyes, I've tried to think about something else, I want to blot it all out…but I can't.' she sighed. 'How did this happen again?'

Cristina instantly thought of Denny. When he had died it had shattered Izzie and broken her heart into a thousand pieces which eventually Alex had fixed. Still, to her it must seem like being right back there again.

'We'll be okay, Iz,' Cristina replied, thinking of what Owen had said to her earlier in an attempt to reassure her. Cristina had to at least try to do the same for Izzie.

'I'm not sure I want to be okay anymore,' Izzie whispered.

Cristina just about heard her, but she did. She had heard what she had said and she had heard her give up. And it made her want to explode. 'No. No don't you dare say that! Don't you dare give up! God, Izzie, we've already lost one friend, we can't….' she shouted before breaking down into tears. Izzie was now sitting upright and staring at her friend who was genuinely distraught. 'Do you think George ever gave up? Do you think that you giving up would be what he would want? We've already lost him. We cannot lose you too. We just can't. I still want you to fight, Izzie. I always want you to fight.'

Izzie looked at her friend and sighed. Before her cancer, Izzie would have considered Cristina to be one of the last people to become upset at her possible death. Yet, she had seen a very different side to her since she had confided in her, and she loved her all the more for it. She knew that she was capable of feeling pain, of course; seeing her breakdown after her ectopic pregnancy had showed her that. Seeing her that upset again really clarified the genuine concern she held for her. At one stage, she thought that Cristina was a robot; now though, she saw that she was tough and professional, but very much human.

'I'm sorry,' she told her with tears filling her eyes.

Cristina crossed over the room and sat down in the seat beside the bed. Taking Izzie's hand, she told her, 'You don't have to be sorry, Izzie. You don't have to be brave or strong either, because God knows none of us are right now. But you have to fight. You have to. Promise me that.'

'I promise,' she half-smiled. 'We'll get through this, yeah?'

'Yeah. Somehow, we will.'

'Can you stay for a while?' she asked.

'Sure,' Cristina smiled.

* * *

Owen stood at the nurses' station, flicking through a patient's chart. Thankfully, it had been a quiet day; he didn't think he was physically or emotionally fit enough to deal with several major trauma cases. It had been mostly minor fractures and deep wounds to deal with, and he had only seen the inside of an OR twice.

Looking up from his chart, he noticed a vaguely familiar woman approach him. She looked to be in her late fifties and had a worn out expression on her face.

'Dr. Hunt?' she asked.

'Yes,' he replied, standing up to greet her.

'I'm Louise O'Malley. You knew my son George?'

It was then Owen remembered where he knew her from; he had seen Dr. Bailey comforting her yesterday evening in the waiting room of the hospital. 'Mrs. O'Malley,' he said, shaking her hand. 'I'm so sorry for your loss. George was…he was the best.'

'Thank you, Dr. Hunt,' she said tears filling her eyes. 'It was a terrible shock….' She trailed off, breaking down completely. Owen placed a comforting hand on her back, unsure of how to comfort a total stranger, and wondering what he could do to help. He doubted there was anything he could do now – anything that he could have done that may have been of any help to her was something he should have done yesterday while working on her son. After composing herself, she mumbled, 'I'm so sorry.'

'There's no need to apologise, Mrs. O'Malley.'

'I actually came to ask you a favour,' she said while wiping her eyes with a tissue.

'Of course,' he replied. Seeing George's mother this way, he didn't think he could refuse anything she would ask of him.

'We're trying to organise George's funeral…' she said, struggling to say the last word. 'George told me that you were in the army. I believe you were a trauma surgeon in Iraq?'

'Yes, ma'am, that's correct.' He didn't know where this was going, but she didn't seem angry. Obviously George hadn't mentioned him as an influence in his decision to join the army. It was probably quite obvious though that he had indeed planted the seed.

'Well, I know that George never actually made it to the army, but well, I spoke to his brothers and they all agreed that it would be fitting if someone from the army spoke at the funeral.'

Now he was just shocked. He definitely didn't see that one coming. And frankly he couldn't think of anything worse that she could have asked him to do. He imagined that some people still blamed him, regardless of what Cristina had told him. His speaking at George's funeral would seem like a kick in the teeth for them, and he didn't want to upset anyone further. And more than that, somewhere in the back of his mind, the thought of a funeral being in any way linked to the military terrified him more. He had been to so many already, another one would threaten to wreck whatever small progress he had made on the road to recovery.

Knowing that his face was probably a picture of dread, he struggled to find the right way to refuse, if there was such a thing. 'Mrs. O'Malley, I really wouldn't know what to say….'

'We've already picked out a reading for you to say. All you would have to do it to read it straight off the sheet.'

Damn, he thought. He'd have to try again. 'I really am honoured that you thought of me but I didn't even know George that long…'

'Please, Dr. Hunt,' she pleaded while reaching out to touch his hand. 'It would mean a lot to us, and I know it would have meant a lot to George too.'

She had him trapped. He couldn't refuse her now, as much as he wanted to. The woman was hurt enough without him adding to it. 'Alright. I'll do it,' he nodded.

'Thank you Dr. Hunt,' she sighed. 'You're a kind man.'

'Call me Owen, ma'am.'

'Then call me Louise,' she smiled whilst giving his hand a quick squeeze before beginning to walk away.

'Mrs. O'Malley,' he called after her. 'Louise, sorry,' he corrected himself. 'He was a great guy. A really great guy. A true hero. The army would have been lucky to have him, and well, we were all lucky to just have known him.'

'I know,' she agreed. 'I just wished we had gotten to known him for longer.'

Owen nodded in agreement and waved briefly as she left the hospital. His mind instantly thought of Cristina; his rock, his tower of strength. He was going to need her more than ever now if only to get him through the funeral.


End file.
